


Home Remedies

by kingsofeverything



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Found on Wikipedia, Friends to Lovers, Intractable Hiccups, M/M, Non traditional hiccup remedies, Roommates, Smut, look it up because they’re for real, so like don’t try this at home lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofeverything/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: Louis’ hiccupsjust won’t stop.Harry, his roommate and best friend, is willing to do anything to help.





	Home Remedies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Somethingwittyorother](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somethingwittyorother/gifts).

> For S. for sending me [this prompt](https://iguanastevens.tumblr.com/post/185969125637/new-fanfic-trope) and always being supportive. Thank youuuuu ❤️ and I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to Nic as usual for the speedy beta and for always being amazing ❤️  

> 
> Tumblr fic post is [here](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/187122348595/home-remedies-by-kingsofeverything) and the Tweet is [here](https://twitter.com/FullOnLarrie/status/1163499439723618306?s=20) if you'd like to share :D
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3. **
> 
>   
**Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**  


Blue and green lights stream over the dance floor, reflecting off the mirrored ceiling and disco balls, making Harry’s drink sparkle. As he swings his hips to the beat, he makes his way through the crowd, almost spilling his drink when Louis appears in front of him, shouting, “I’m going home!”

Frowning, Harry looks around the room for the guy Louis was dancing with all night, and finds him grinding against someone else’s ass. “What happened?”

When he opens his mouth to answer, Louis hiccups and flattens his hand against his chest, shaking his head. He points to his mouth, hiccups again, then again, snaps his mouth shut and pushes past Harry, who turns and follows him out of the club to the relative quiet of the street.

“You can stay, Harry.” Louis shoves his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans and turns to glance at Harry, who’s walking beside him. He hiccups and groans, kicking his foot out and stomping. “Fuck me, man. This sucks.”

“Did you drink water?” Harry asks, running through the other home remedies he can remember, but Louis doesn’t answer, rolling his eyes as soon as Harry looks over. “Fine. Okay. We’ll try a lemon.”

“You can stay, Harry. You don’t have to…” Louis trails off when he sees Harry scowling at him. “Fine. A lemon?” 

“Yeah, you have to eat it.”

“Gross. No thanks. They’ll go away.” Louis hiccups, but it’s more of a squeak. “I just need to like, relax.” He holds his breath on and off the whole way home while Googling hiccup remedies, and as soon as they walk through their apartment door, Louis heads for the kitchen, fills a glass of water, and attempts to drink from the opposite side of the glass. It doesn't end well.

He gargles with warm salty water and pulls hard enough on his tongue that Harry grimaces and drinks a can of seltzer to make himself burp. Eventually, he gives in and eats the lemon while Harry watches on, wincing every time Louis hiccups, another home remedy off the list. At one in the morning, after Googling ‘hiccups won’t go away’, Harry tries to convince Louis to go to the emergency room, panicking that a tumor might be the cause. 

“If it’s a tumor, it can wait until tomorrow. I’m going to bed.” Louis grumbles the whole way to his room, but Harry can’t make out much more than the F word, then he hiccups loudly and slams his door. 

Harry feels like he just laid down when Louis throws open his bedroom door, jerking him out of a deep sleep. Louis squeaks a hiccup and says, “I slept for half an—” _Hiccup. _

“Go to the hospital.” Rubbing his eyes, Harry climbs out of bed, ignoring Louis’ annoyed huffing hiccup and muttered comments about nudity when he bends over to pick his sweatpants up off the floor. “I’ll go with you.” 

“No, no, no. There’s got to be something else I haven’t tried.”

“You could try drinking from the opposite side of a glass again,” Harry offers, pulling his sweatpants over his bum and leading a hiccuping Louis to the kitchen. 

“Did that,” Louis rushes out before a hiccup can interrupt him. He waits for it, stilling with his hand to his chest. _Hiccup._ Rolling his eyes, Louis says, “Didn’t work.”

Five-twelve in the morning according to the clock on the microwave and even though he’s only slept a few hours, he won’t be able to sleep again until Louis either stops hiccuping or agrees to go to the doctor. He thought sleeping might cure Louis, but apparently not. Harry starts a pot of coffee and pushes a dazed and half-asleep Louis to the living room where he drops onto the couch with a hiccup that sounds like a chirping baby chick. 

After a bit of searching, Harry discovers that Louis has ‘intractable hiccups’ which narrows his results significantly. Still, he loses track of how many times he clicks for more results, looking for some cure that doesn’t require a prescription. When he scrolls to the bottom of the treatment section of the Wikipedia page for hiccups, he locks his phone and turns it face down on his thigh. 

“Wha—” _Hiccup. _“Motherfucking hic—” _Hiccup. Hiccup. _Louis groans miserably and lets his head fall back against the cushion. “What?”

Flipping his phone back over while trying not to imagine Louis curing himself of the hiccups, Harry bites his lip and sends the link. His cheeks flush when he can’t stop picturing it. “I’m, um… I’ll let you…”

Harry didn't think he’d ever want to forget about the morning a few months ago when, thinking Louis was at school and he was alone in their new apartment, he walked into Louis’ bedroom to gather the dirty towels he always leaves strewn about the floor. Instead Harry found Louis splayed across his bed, asleep on his back, glistening with sweat, splatters of white drying on his belly, loose fist around his softening cock. 

But now, after reading ‘persistent digital rectal massage has been proven effective in terminating intractable hiccups’, Harry wishes he didn’t know what Louis looks like passed out from pleasure and covered in come. 

Good. He looks really, really good like that. 

They lived together for more than two years before Harry realized he was in love with Louis, that his roommate was more than his best friend, and at first he was ashamed that it took seeing him _like that_ to see him like that. But it didn’t take long for Harry to remember that he’d intentionally made Louis off-limits in his mind when they first met as roommates freshman year. 

Now here they are two and a half years later, Harry’s nursing a crush, he’s only had a few hours of restless sleep, and he sent Louis a link to a Wikipedia article suggesting that his hiccups will go away if he’ll finger himself just right. 

“I’m not fingering myself with you here.” Louis’ voice snaps Harry out of his haze and he jumps off the couch. “What are you—” _Squeak. _

Harry snorts. These hiccups aren’t funny and he’s been fairly successful containing his laughter, but some of the noises Louis makes— 

_Hiccup. _

That one sounded painful. Harry frowns and pockets his phone. There’s one other remedy they haven’t tried because it isn’t as if they keep smelling salts on hand, but they might have them at the pharmacy. He shouts as much back over his shoulder as he grabs his keys and wallet and hurries from the apartment. Before he can shut the door, he turns around and heads back to his room, tugs a hoodie over his bare chest and shoves his socked feet into his running shoes. 

“Be back at eight-thirty!” That should give Louis enough time to… get rid of his hiccups. Two or three times, maybe. But the pharmacy doesn’t open until eight and it’s barely six o’clock, so Harry hangs out at the Starbucks closest to the CVS and drinks far too many pumpkin spice lattes while he waits. He swings by McDonald’s on the way back to their place, thinking Louis might be hungry after… Well, after. 

Balancing two lattes in his hand, Harry shoves the CVS bag in the pocket of his hoodie, squashes the McDonald’s bag against his chest, and fumbles to unlock the door. He’s never been afraid to walk into his own apartment before, even last Halloween when Louis kept jumping out at him from behind doors and corners and furniture, but he’s scared now because it’s quiet. Deathly, eerily, spookily, disturbingly quiet. 

As silently as he can, Harry shuts the door and tiptoes through the apartment, carefully setting everything down in the kitchen before heading towards their bedrooms while listening out for hiccups or — heaven forbid — moans. It’s almost nine o'clock, Harry may have let a few people in front of him in line at McDonald’s, but he wanted to be sure Louis had plenty of time. 

Louis’ bedroom is empty. The door is wide open, his bed is a mess, but the light is on. Harry peeks into the bathroom. Empty as well. Maybe Louis cured his hiccups and decided to go out to celebrate and just… forgot to let Harry know. Frowning, Harry pushes open the door to his own room and screams. Then Louis screams.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Louis spins around, hand to his bare chest, wearing nothing but his underwear. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asks and looks uselessly at the mirror and in the corner, which reflects Louis’ back. And Louis’ bum. He squeezes his eyes closed while Louis answers.

“I was, um… Well, I… I wanted to borrow some—” _Squeak._ “Fuck. Thought you’d have lube. I’m—” _Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup._ “Well, you scared the shit out of me and that didn’t work. And I couldn’t, like… It said persistent. I kept hiccuping and like, I took a bath, ’cause I thought it might help, but then I spilled my lu—” Louis hiccups so hard that his entire body jerks with it and Harry _does not_ watch his bum bounce in the mirror. 

“Oh…” It takes Harry a few seconds to put it together and then he pictures Louis fingering himself, unable to reach properly, and hiccuping, his body so out of his control that he can’t keep his hand where he wants it. “Oh! I do! I have lube!”

Five short, burp-like hiccups leave Louis’ mouth in quick succession. He shakes his head and whispers, “Forget it. I can’t.”

Harry stops rummaging through his bedside table drawer. “Sorry, Lou.”

“Yeah, it’s—” _Hiccup._ “It’s fine. I’ll get dressed and… I just feel like an idiot going to the doctor for hiccups.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Harry says, stepping closer and reaching for Louis’ hand. “Got you McDonald’s and a latte.”

“Thanks, man.” Louis looks down at Harry’s hand holding his and chuckles. “Too bad I don’t have your fingers. They’re longer and—” _Hiccup. Burp. Squeak._

Dropping Louis’ hand like it burned him, Harry says, “Don’t you have, like, a toy? Dildo? Butt plug?” His eyes widen and he clamps his mouth shut, biting hard on his lower lip. The last thing he needs to think about it Louis’ toy collection. 

“No, I—” _Hiccup._ Louis shakes his head. “No. It’s fine. I’ll just get dressed and—”

“You can have my fingers!” Harry practically shrieks, belatedly slapping a hand over his mouth, which does nothing to reverse time or take back his offer, but does stop him from saying anything else.

“Ha ha ha.” Louis folds his arms over his bare chest and looks down. “Very fun—” _Squeak. _“Funny. Except it’s not.”

“Sorry! Sorry. I…” Harry fans himself with both hands trying to cool his heating face, but his mouth starts running again as soon as Louis lifts his head and meets his eyes. “I’m serious.”

Narrowing his eyes, Louis takes a step back. “You’re not.”

Harry huffs and crosses his arms, mirroring Louis’ pose down to the scowl. “I’m not a liar, Louis.”

“You’re not— Wait.” Louis drops his arms, tipping his head to the side, watching Harry for a few seconds during which he thinks he might sink straight through the floor, then he says, “That’s true. You never lie. Do you—” _Hiccup. Hiccup._

“I do!” Harry shouts, then quieter he says, “I’m not a liar. I’m… I meant it. I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Louis. You know that.”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes, pushing past Harry to the door. “I don’t want your charity fingering, Harry.”

Truly offended, Harry gasps. And then, because it doesn’t look like this day is going to get better, he stomps his foot and says, “Fine. I’ll finger myself!”

“You’ll what?” Louis spins around to face him. _Hiccup._

“I don’t know!” 

Narrowing his eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something. _Squeak. Squeak. Burp._ “Fu—” _Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup._ “—uck!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to like, offend you.” Harry crosses his arms and kicks his toe against the bottom of his bedroom door. 

With his palm flat to his chest as if it could prevent another hiccup from slipping out, Louis says, “Wasn’t offended. It’s just weird, isn’t it?”

Biting his lip, Harry nods, but then he asks, “What part, exactly? Like, is it the idea of me fingering you at all that’s weird? Or doing it to get rid of your hiccups?”

_Hiccup. Hiccup._ Louis inhales deeply and rushes out, “Could you not mention them? I think they can hear you.” Harry nods. “It’s the second thing. I think.”

“You mean if I just… up and offered to finger you it would be less weird than me offering for like, an actual helpful, health-related reason?”

“Yes!”

“But if you had a boyfriend, you’d let him do it?” Harry asks carefully, and Louis nods. _Squeak._ “But not me because I’m not your boyfriend.” Louis nods again. “What if the doctor offers to do it? Like, clinically. With gloves and hospital grade lube and a paper gown and everything?”

Louis stares at him, possibly trying to gauge if Harry's serious, probably thinking of ways to murder him in his sleep. “I suppose I’d ask if my insurance covers it.” Harry snorts. “I mean, I don’t know, Harry. Why? You want to hang around the exam room and watch?”

“You’d let me?” Harry barely even whispers the question. He might not be breathing. 

“No! I was fucking arou—” _Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup._ “Around! Goddamn it!” Louis stomps towards his bedroom, and suddenly angry, Harry follows him.

“You would’ve let that guy at the club tonight fuck you! You would’ve let him finger the hiccups out of you! I can’t believe you’d rather some stranger or a fucking doctor—”

Rounding on him, Louis shouts, “I’m not having you finger me just because I have the hiccups, Harry!”

“Fine!” Harry waits for Louis to shut the door in his face, and he’s not disappointed. He trudges back to his room and falls onto his bed face first, moaning pitifully into his pillow. If he could somehow convince Louis to date him, then maybe he’d—

Harry’s bedroom door slams open and Louis yells, “Do it! Just fucking do—” _Hiccup._ “—it!” 

“What?” Harry rolls onto his side. “You just—”

“I can’t find my wallet! My insurance card. I can’t even get my jeans on without—” _Squeak. Burp. Hiccup._ “Please, Harry. I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole. I’m so tired and—” _Hiccup. _

Slowly, Harry sits up. “Are you gonna be weird after?”

“Maybe?” Louis shrugs. “Get rid of these hiccups and I might cry. Probably I’ll just fall asleep.”

“What about tomorrow though?” Harry asks, biting his lip.

“Depends how good you are with your hands.” Louis smirks. _Hiccup. _Harry smirks back. “I promise not to be weird, okay? Just… Please. Make it stop.” 

Clambering onto his knees, Harry rummages through his drawer for the lube he dropped back in there earlier, raising it triumphantly into the air when he finds it. He turns to find Louis still standing there in his boxers, mouth slightly open as if he didn’t expect Harry to agree. 

Harry smacks his hand against the mattress. “Let’s go!”

_Hiccup._ Louis closes his eyes and nods once, taking the few steps across the room to Harry’s bed. _Hiccup. _When he continues to just stand there, not climbing onto the bed, but not seeming like he wants to leave either, Harry reaches for him, grabs him around the waist, and tosses him down on the mattress. Things between them will probably — definitely — be weird after this, and maybe he’s just too exhausted to think clearly or maybe he just doesn’t care. 

He’s going to finger the hiccups out of Louis better than any doctor or stranger from a club and if he’s lucky, he’ll get to make him come too. And when it’s all over and their friendship falls apart, at least he’ll have the memory. His heart clenches at the thought, but he pushes the pain away, determined to be what Louis needs, if only for now.

“On your stomach.” Not sure where this sudden confidence is coming from, Harry figures he’ll ride it out and see what happens. In the meantime, he helps Louis onto his stomach after another spate of hiccups has his knees jerking up uncontrollably, almost hitting Harry in the chin. He settles onto his front, resting his forehead on his folded hands. _Hiccup._ Louis’ ass jiggles with it. _Hiccup. Hiccup. _It jiggles with each hiccup and Harry almost doesn’t want to get rid of the hiccups if it means— 

“Louis?” Louis hums in response. “I have to tell you something.” Louis hums again, and Harry can tell he’s annoyed. Probably thinks that Harry’s dragging things out like it’s a joke or something. “I don’t want to do this just to get rid of your hiccups.”

“What? Are you—” _Hiccup. _Louis looks back over his shoulder, and starts to push himself up off the mattress. “Seriously? You know what, fuck you—”

“No! No, I mean, I don’t want to _just _do it for that. I kind of want to do it all the time. Not all the time, but like, when you want? When we want? And like, date? We could date?” A small wrinkle appears between Louis’ eyebrows, and Harry hurries to tack on, “Or not! We don’t have to do any of that. I can just do this! It’s not like, contingent or like…” 

_Hiccup. Hiccup._ Louis drops his head back down, hiding his face in the pillow, and his shoulders shake. There was an invisible line there and Harry managed to cross it, ruin everything, and make Louis cry. He is officially the worst friend. Hiccup. Louis rolls onto his side, tears in his eyes, and cackles so loudly that Harry jerks backwards, eyes going wide. _Hiccup. _

“I…” Harry starts, but he doesn’t know what to say. Maybe the hiccups have pushed Louis over the edge. Instead of speaking, Harry watches him warily as his mad laughter mixed with squeaking hiccups turns to quiet chuckles and finally stops.

“Contingent.” Snorting, Louis rolls back onto his stomach. _Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. _Again, his ass jiggles with each uncontrollable spasm of his diaphragm, but then he wiggles it again, definitely on purpose, looks back at Harry, winks, and says, “Show me what you can do with those fing—” _Hiccup. Hiccup. _“—fingers, then we’ll talk.”

Harry replays Louis’ words inside his head and they don’t sound insincere, but he can’t be serious. “You don’t have to say that, Lou. I can—”

“Don’t be an idiot.” _Hiccup. _“Didn’t know you were interested. Thought you only liked ’em tall and blond.”

Shaking his head, Harry says, “Liked you. _Like_ you.”

“Well, then I g—” _Hiccup. _Louis sighs. “Guess you ought to show me how much.”

“Okay!” Harry almost yells, voice a little shrill. This is really and truly happening. Or… Harry sits up and shucks his hoodie, ignoring the rustling of the CVS bag in his pocket. Rubbing a hand over his own chest, he pinches his nipple hard, hissing at the sudden sharp pain. Definitely awake. He takes a steadying breath and drizzles lube over his fingers, muttering, “I’d kiss you. You know, if you didn’t have the hiccups. Like, I will later, if you’re up for it. But for now…”

Kneeling between Louis’ legs, Harry nudges them apart a little more, palming Louis’ ass with his left hand and spreading his cheeks apart. When he attempts to quickly smear lube over Louis’ rim, Louis hiccups, body jerking with it, forcing the tip of Harry’s index finger inside, and they both freeze. Slowly, Harry starts to pump his finger in and out, only an inch or so at first, not wanting to hurt Louis. 

_Hiccup. Hiccup._

Louis’ ass bounces, Harry’s finger slides in deep and fast, and they both moan. And when Harry hears Louis, he moans again, louder. With his finger buried inside Louis, Harry presses down and drags it out, searching for his prostate, and hitting it dead on when Louis hiccups again. His hiccups are followed by a quiet whine as Louis shifts his hips, and Harry circles the pad of his finger over Louis’ spot, trying to keep constant pressure. As soon as he feels Louis’ body relax around his index finger, he pulls it out and adds more lube, pushing his middle finger back in alongside it and holding them still while Louis adjusts to the stretch. 

_Hiccup. _

Without even trying, Harry finds Louis’ prostate again, and he silently congratulates himself for doing such an excellent job at finger fucking the hiccups out of his best friend. The article said persistent digital rectal massage, and Harry is determined to do his damndest to be the _most _persistent. 

Tight and hot and, with the amount of lube Harry adds, dripping wet, it’s all Harry can do to keep his mind on the task at hand. He works up a rhythm, circling and rubbing before pulling his hand back and pushing his two fingers inside, prodding Louis’ prostate roughly. Every time Louis hiccups, Harry shoves his fingers deep, keeping pressure on his spot until they pass, and then he goes back to it. Harry’s always been the sort to lose himself in whatever he focuses on, be that chores, school work, music, books, or fingering his best friend’s asshole. Time passes as if he’s in another dimension and he’s shocked out of his trance when Louis starts to meet each thrust of his fingers.

“Lou?” Harry looks up, gaze finally leaving Louis’ ass, to find Louis watching him curiously over his shoulder. 

“I haven’t hiccupped in like… five minutes,” Louis whispers as if it’s a secret, and Harry slips his fingers free, eyes drifting down to Louis’ ass again of their own accord. 

“Okay, um… That’s good. I guess I’ll—”

“I guess you’ll fuck me, unless you plan on leaving me fingered open and hard in your bed.”

“I… I mean, I can, if that’s what you want me—”

“Fuck me, Harry! I swear if you leave this room I’ll—”

Harry doesn’t do it to shut him up, but his two fingers do the job anyway. While he scissors them, he pushes his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, kicking them off. Fitting his ring finger inside, he carefully twists his wrist, spreading his fingers, and stretching Louis’ rim. It all feels surreal. As if in slow motion, Harry opens a condom and puts it on, drizzling more lube into his hand, and fucking into his fist a couple of times to take the edge off. 

Urging Louis onto his back, Harry forgets all about his dick for a minute. He falls forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of Louis’ head and dips down, sucking a messy kiss half on Louis’ lips and half on his chin, before sitting back again and grabbing for a pillow to prop up Louis’ hips. 

“I… I can’t believe this is—” Harry knows he sounds cliche and lame, but he doesn’t care. Not when the head of his cock catches on Louis’ rim and he pushes past the initial tightness. 

“Shh…” Louis lifts a single finger to Harry’s lips and says, “Tell me how amazing I am later. Fuck me now.”

Harry nods and shifts on his knees, slipping a few more inches inside. Hooking his arms under Louis’ legs, he lifts him up while driving forward, filling Louis completely. 

It’s a frenzy of sharp thrusts, sweat and slippery skin, and Harry is sure that it’ll be over before it can really begin. Every whimper, every moan, every sound that Louis makes lodges itself inside his brain, and Harry knows that even if this never happens again, he’ll remember. 

Hitching Louis’ legs up higher, Harry tosses them over his shoulders, bending down and mouthing at his jawline, his neck, his shoulder, while pistoning his hips and propping himself up with one hand. Harry reaches between them, fisting Louis’ dick, stroking him faster and faster as he barrels towards his own release. It hits him like a tidal wave, pulling him under, and he’s barely aware of his own body, but conscious of his hand still working Louis over, and his cock still hard enough that he keeps fucking Louis until he comes, biting down on Harry’s collarbone, muscles tightening around him. Harry dicks in deep one last time and stays there, all of his energy going to holding his body weight up and off of Louis.

Gingerly, Harry pulls out, sitting up and taking in the sight before him. His mind flashes back to that day a few months ago, and can’t help the pride that surges through him at the look of utter satisfaction on Louis’ face. It only takes a moment to clean himself up in the bathroom, grab a washcloth and return to the bedroom, but when he does, he finds Louis sound asleep. Harry carefully wipes him off, making sure not to wake him, and pulls the blankets over them both, cuddling up next to Louis’ side. Closing his eyes, Harry sighs. And hiccups. 

Louis stirs, mumbling, “Don’t have to do that. I’ll fuck you later anyway.”

Burying his face against Louis’ shoulder, Harry grins. _Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. Squeak._


End file.
